


the kind of love you don't believe in.

by pinkgrapefruit



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cats, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Gratuitous puns, Weddings, crosswords, excessive flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23908654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkgrapefruit/pseuds/pinkgrapefruit
Summary: Jackie takes a deep breath and slams her empty glass on the table triumphantly.“I’m going to make you believe in love.” She says with such conviction it’s impossible not to believe her. Her eyes twinkle. Jan wonders if this might be easier than either of them think.“Okay.”[ divorce lawyer/wedding planner au ]
Relationships: Jan Sport/Jackie Cox, Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 20
Kudos: 88





	the kind of love you don't believe in.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silvervelour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvervelour/gifts).



> i love this fic so much that i've tried to prolong it several times to no avail. it's based off a Tumblr prompt me and jazz saw and ran with and honestly i'd make her a coauthor but she wouldn't be impressed so instead it's gifted to her in the hopes that she'll actually accept that for all her hard work and amazing comments while writing this. couldn't have done it without her.

Jan picks at the edges of her french-tipped manicure. It’s peeling. She stares at it for a second, examining the way the shiny polish reflects the sunlight filtering through the half-closed blinds. If she’s got her timings right, Bob will barrel through her office door in a minute or two and tell her to go home. Or to eat something. Or to do both which is the most probable outcome and Jan’s always been good at finding the most probable outcomes.

She’s a lawyer. It’s her job.

She’d started in family court and it was fun. There was a joy to bringing a child back home to their parents or filing adoptions and the kids’ faces would make Jan light up. She’d appealed for name changes and gender assignments and she was good, no one questioned that. One corner of her office had a neon rainbow sign and a comfy armchair and some books and some toys and it was usually occupied by a little kid who shouldn’t have to spend their afternoon in a lawyers office. But if she could look up from some paperwork to see a calm little kid - she could be calm and happy.

Then she started taking divorce claims.

And she’s a little less vibrant.

(The world feels a little less magical when your job is to help people split their lives in two.)

The problem is, she’s good. She’s really good. She hasn’t lost a divorce case and she gets a name for them. She gets recommended divorce cases until she only has a couple of gay kids and adoptions and custody agreements a month. Trixie takes the rest - nice, warm, motherly Trixie who makes everyone a cup of tea and asks them about their day and wears pastel pinks and yellows. Jan’s not bitter, she’s just jaded. She turns up to work in her charcoal pantsuits and her red heels, makes her coffee in her matte black mug, spends the day in her office with the door closed and leaves in silence. She’s happy, she’s just not what she used to be.

She tried to explain as much in the kitchenette the firm shares. There are only four of them; herself, Katya, Trixie and Bob - the boss lady. Bob does corporate, Katya does criminal, Trixie does the pro bono work and most of the kids’ stuff and Jan slogs away on divorces.

“I want to do something that feels meaningful,” she whined, pulling her turtleneck over her mouth as Bob pointed at the crossword question she couldn’t answer. 

“Accumulation,” Katya said with a mouthful of apple that she crunched next to Jan’s ear, taking pleasure in the way the blonde scrunched her face up.

“Doesn’t fit the clue. It says impatience.” Bob reminded her, underlining it with her finger just to make a point.

“Anticipation,” Trixie yelled from the counter where she’d perched with her tea. “Jan use it in a sentence!”

“I anticipate going home.” Jan moaned to a cackle from the pink-clad woman. She stood, checking her turtleneck in the microwave door before leaving the kitchenette with a sigh. 

So she’s waiting for Bob to come in and tell her to go home. It’s the middle of summer but it’s nearing seven and it’s a Friday. She’s got the weekend off for a wedding. She’d rather be in small claims court if she’s honest.

The idea of love becomes infinitely less appealing when you are surrounded by its decay at every turn. She’d rather just go home to her cat who she knows will always love her and cannot file a legal document saying it’s got irreconcilable differences and wants the house but none of the furniture. 

No, Marceline would never.

*

Jackie opens the shop at six a.m. because she likes the feeling of the streets in the early morning. The sun is already up because it’s the middle of summer but the city still feels barren. It’s so quiet, she can hear her own heart among the calls of the birds. She enters ‘End Of The Aisle Weddings’ with a peppy smile and relaxed confidence and zero caffeine - saving that for her two p.m. pick me up when she and Rock can discuss their clientele over leftover wedding cake and hot drinks served in novelty mugs. It’s her favourite time of the day after opening. 

She checks her planner almost immediately, plays her seventeen-ish voicemails while crossing things off the list and tacking on extra items that brides have found in a frenzy. She has one wedding coming up that should be fantastic but is also draining her more than usual with the number of requests the bride has. She gets about three calls a day making amendments and she’s more than happy to agree to them because most of the time she’s just a little drunk on the idea of being in love. 

She calls the florist, the caterers and the photographer before Rock will be out of bed, skidding around the backroom’s slick floors in just her socks as she rearranges goodie bags and vases and table decorations organised by date. 

Sometimes, she leans on the sage-green wooden table they use for meetings and looks through engagement photoshoots, planning her own. She imagines her hair in pin curls as her fiance dips her - probably in a field.

With their cat.

And some fairy lights.

She’s spent a lot of time hoping and dreaming and praying for her future wife to just walk through the door like they do in the romcoms she’s been born and raised on. She wants her ‘You’ve got Mail’ moment - a book with a rose in it and a woman she thought she hated but also loved. She wants someone to convince her to fall in love. She wants big moments and small gestures and the sweet warmth she sees in so many couples but she’s alone. It’s a cruel irony.

She hadn’t planned to be a wedding planner. She studies interior design and marketing at uni - interning at a wedding planner and never really leaving. She thought she’d do corporate, or events. Turns out, she’s pretty happy where she ended up. 

Just a little lonely. Ever so slightly. Sometimes.

She brews another cup of chai and inhales the scent of cardamom pods, watching the business people on their ways to work through the big glass front windows - rain spattering on them like tiny droplets of light.

*

Jackie plans good weddings. She knows it’s not particularly objective but she knows she’s good at her job. By this point in the planning, she’s known the couple for close to a year so she’s pretty comfortable just to chill at the reception. She puts out fires where she’s needed in her white shirt and tailored black trousers - it’s typical attire for her - a black blazer hung on a hook somewhere, waiting for her exit. She’s comfortable, mobile and most importantly, she has pockets.

She knows she plans a good wedding which is why she’s just a little surprised to see (an objectively gorgeous) blonde woman sat at the bar, holding a tumbler of scotch. She’s in an off-the-shoulder yellow dress but somehow the summery look feels a little off-kilter when faced with her expression. It’s like it doesn’t fit her even though it fits her perfectly (objectively of course).

She scowls at the scotch before taking another sip and Jackie decides to approach as even though she’s terminally delightful she is not someone who enjoys the conga and it’s coming dangerously close. 

She sidles up to the blonde girl, ordering a ‘sex on the beach’ with a smile to the bartender who she’s known for years. Jaida just winks, sliding over the drink and walking as far away as she can.

Jackie just sips her drink and watches for a minute or so until the girl flips her curls over her shoulder and stares her dead in the eyes. Her eyes are blue. A soul-piercing blue. But they look lost.

“Jan,” she announces, nonchalantly and Jackie has to blink a few times before she realises that the girl - Jan - is saying her name. She gives a frankly stupid little wave before she replies, voice full of amusement at her own stupidity.

“I’m Jackie. It’s lovely to meet you Jan,” she smiles, sipping her drink through the tiny straw Jaida always gives her after she spilt a particularly colourful cosmo down her old favourite shirt.

Jan nods towards her drink, “ Sex on the beach? All I’m getting from this wedding is a handshake in the garden.” She almost manages to maintain her slightly stormy demeanour but she cracks at the last second, blinding white teeth sparkling as Jackie has to hold onto the bar to stop herself falling off her chair in laughter.

“Not a wedding person?” Jackie asks, once she’s settled herself again and Jan tilts her head like she’s wondering why Jackie is bothering.

“I’m alone drinking expensive scotch at a bar,” Jan responds dryly. “I’m a divorce lawyer, I’m not exactly primed for this sort of thing. There is too much hope in this gazebo.” 

Jackie feels the twinge of a smile at her cheeks and forces herself to look down for a second. “Fair enough, how do you know Rose and Nicky?”

Jan waves Jaida down and slips a tenner across the counter in exchange for another tumbler. She takes a long sniff and then a sip before she responds. “Rose - Rosé as we’ve called her ever since she chugged a bottle in uni - she was in my Law program - or at least the social work modules.” Jackie hums in approval and also a sort of understanding. She’s very good at putting the pieces together.

“You never planned to do divorces huh?” She asks but this time Jan’s the one to avert her gaze, staring ahead at the bottles of alcohol as Jackie rolls up the sleeves of her shirt - it’s a warm day and the gazebo holding the bar and the dancefloor isn’t particularly well vented, she’ll bring it up with the company when she gets back to the office.

“Damn Sherlock.” Jan chuckles when she finally comes up with her response, tugging her dress back off the shoulders from where it’s risen up to. “No, I’m trained for family court - name changes, adoptions, custody - the sort of thing with happy children and good, fulfilling life changes. I’m just naturally good at homewrecking.”

“It’s not homewrecking if they ask for it,” Jackie points out, tilting her glass in a way that makes her look a little bit drunker than she is but then again she’s been on the champagne since ten when Rose forced a glass into her hand and the caterers are so well trained they just top you up.

She stands up, wobbling a bit on her heels and the uneven grass. “Wait,” she mutters, Jan placing a guiding hand on her lower back for stability. “You don’t believe in love do you?” It makes Jan snort in a very unladylike way but Jackie is deadly serious. “I’m a wedding planner. I love love. But you don’t.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe in it,” Jan sighs dejectedly, helping Jackie back onto her stool and ordering her another drink, handing out tenners like they’re coins. “I just think it’s underwhelming and disappointing and never ends well. Women will disappoint me. My cat won’t.”

“You’ve never sounded gayer.” Jackie deadpans. 

  
They look at each other inquisitively. Eyes drifting, searching. 

“Only one of us wore a suit to a wedding.” Jan points out and they both burst into raucous laughter that makes the conga line (somehow still going) look at them a little strangely.

Jackie takes a deep breath and slams her empty glass on the table triumphantly. 

“I’m going to make you believe in love.” She says with such conviction it’s impossible not to believe her. Her eyes twinkle. Jan wonders if this might be easier than either of them think.

“Okay.”

*

**19:14**

Janet are you busy?

**19:18**

Why.

**19:21**

I’m taking you to Karaoke.

*

Jan is pleasantly surprised to see Jackie in a mini dress but she’s also not mad about it. The dress is emerald green, hits just above her mid-thigh and is dangerously strappy and the heels Jackie paired with it make her legs look impossibly long. Jan also dressed up - but her purple mini dress feels more normal - less of a statement. 

“Janet!” Jackie shouts from the entrance, clearly already tipsy even though it’s barely gone half-nine. She’s waving rather frantically and it takes willpower for Jan to move towards it instead of away but she reaches the girl who is warm and happy and she feels the stress in her shoulders melt away.

“Hi Jackie,” she sighs begrudgingly, holding the door for the brunette who practically skips into the bar that isn’t that empty. It’s a friday night. She should have expected it.

Jackie spins on her heels when they get inside and she gives Jan a once over with her eyes. “You’re not allowed whisky,” she decides after a little thought and Jan just stands there a little shellshocked as Jackie orders their drinks, winking at the bartender to get them quicker.

When she comes back to the high table Jan picked for them, she’s holding a glass of red wine and something that smells fruity which she sets in front of the blonde. Jan looks at it in disgust.

“What is that?” She asks, hoping she will like the answer.

“Pomegranate Mojito,” Jackie responds, looking smug and not at all phased by Jan’s death glare. “Drink up,” She says in a faux high-pitched tone and Jan mocks her as she sips the unnervingly pink drink.

She makes a face which makes Jackie almost spit out the wine she’d been drinking.

After about half an hour of watching drunk girls from the city university sing Taylor Swift off-key, Jackie decides they’re going to go up.

“I’m picking the song.” She demands and Jan raises an eyebrow, bemused.

“Okay Princess,” she responds because her drink is full again and it clearly had more alcohol than she’d been expecting. She’s a little disappointed that her whisky tolerance didn’t carry over into her weird cocktail tolerance - standing and immediately wishing she'd been sat down again.

Jackie once again leaves and returns smug, pushing the mojito towards Jan in a motion for the woman to down it which she does so dutifully - feeling it slide down immediately - smoother than the vodka shots she’d do in law school but still not quite her favourite scotch. 

Bring it fucking on.

The first notes of ‘Nobody But You’ by Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani play and all Jan feels is regret.

She should never have let Jackie on her Spotify. That was a secret.

She is, however, pleasantly surprised to hear Jackie nail Blake Shelton. 

  
  


*

**15:07**

Janet, I need to make name cards are you busy? 

**15:12**

Fuck no.

Wait sorry, frick no.

**15:20**

Jannnnnnnn pleaseeeeee

**15:34**

I can leave at 5. Meet at yours?

**15:35**

You know where the key is if you beat me there

*

Jan does not beat her there - it would be impossible - she’s a lawyer who hasn’t left the office before six since she was twenty-two and Jackie owns a wedding planning business that despite having a very cute shop - half resides in her living room anyway. They may both be twenty-eight but they are very different. 

Jackie does, however, open the door with a mug of coffee already brewed and a dot of ink on her otherwise bare cheek. It’s all Jan can do not to lick her finger and wipe it away, finding it endearing how the girl’s organised behaviour could turn chaotic on a moment's notice.

She enters the apartment and relishes in how homey it feels. Her own isn’t as lived in as it should be after five years but Jackie’s is warm and painted in a sage green tone that highlights the light wood floors. She sees the brunette little set up on the rug and feels glad that she keeps a change of clothes in her office as she’s much better equipped to sit cross-legged on the floor in a sweater and some leggings rather than her usual pantsuit.

The coffee is just how she likes it, warm and sweeter than anyone should know about.

Her hair is still in a low bun so she removes one of the hair ties and lets it fall down her back in a wavy low pony, pulling the bits by her ears out so she feels less like she just came from an office and more like she belongs. The apartment always makes her feel this urge to become comfortable and she spends so much of her time uncomfortable she refuses to fight it.

Jackie just smiles as she watches the blonde adjust - it’s like watching a snake shed its skin and even now she looks a little less like the corporate robot she sometimes meets for coffee and a little more like the woman who fell asleep on the couch during ‘Ten Things I Hate About You’ with her mouth open. It’s cute.

They get to work on the cards pretty quickly or at least they try to. Jackie makes her write on a piece of notepaper before she lets her near the nice pens but they both realise rather quickly that her handwriting is chicken scratch.

“I do a lot of paperwork and I have to write fast to keep up with all the yelling,” she whines as she is relegated to writing little notes for the kids at this particular wedding. “How do you even know how to do this?” She asks, gesturing to the fountain pen and the fancy hand-lettered place cards scattered across the patterned rug.

Jackie sighs as some ink blobs at the end of an otherwise perfectly good name card and throws it into the discard pile with a huff. “My calligrapher fell through one time so I figured I could make extra money by doing them myself.” She admits. “Plus it is fun to use colourful pens.” Jan quirks an eyebrow at the mention of the colourful pens, scanning the rug indiscreetly for anything that isn’t black ink.

Jackie chuckles at her indiscretion and stands up, going to the cupboard by the kettle and, instead of pulling out tea or biscuits like one would usually keep next to a kettle, puls out a caddy of brightly coloured pens. She points vaguely to one. “That one’s purple and glittery.

“Purple and glittery?” Jan repeats back with childlike awe that makes Jackie snort indecently with laughter. Jan scowls. “I’m a lawyer, Jaqueline. My special occasion pen is a red biro,” she rebukes with a huff.

“Gimme that,” Jackie makes a grabby hand towards the pen Jan is now clutching and the woman mocks pulling it closer before handing it over. Jackie scribbles it on one of the discarded cards to check it still works and then takes a fresh new one and writes ‘Janet the Boss-Ass Lawyer’ on it in curly handwriting that makes Jan blush. She then fills the edges with hearts and hands it to Jan with a soft smile. 

Jan holds it close to her heart before looking at it with tenderness. She examines it in the light of the industrial lamps Jackie has but she decides that’s not enough so she skitters into Jackie’s west-facing bedroom and lets the glitter sparkle in the golden hour sunshine. Jackie’s always three steps ahead of her so she follows slowly and patiently, listening to the soft mutters of the happy blonde who hugs her ferociously once they’re both looking at the sunset. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, half holding her breath and Jackie smiles. 

“You deserve to always be as happy as you are with that pen.” She tells her, dead serious and Jan nods slowly.

Jackie did not mean for her to take the pen.

*

**12:41**

Janet do you have my purple pen?

**12:52**

I know it’s your lunch break Jan. 

**13:24**

I’m just concerned for the safety of the glitter pen.

*

“Even her handwriting is romantic, that fucking bitch,” Jan laments as she fills out the crossword. 

“Ire,” Katya mutters, pointing to three boxes going downwards and Jan puts her hand out for a high five, pleased when Katya agrees. The word is neatly put in in purple, glittery ink and it brings a little something to her day - one could venture to call it joy but Jan’s never been that sort of person.

Katya’s only just come out of the storage cupboard she entered seven minutes ago and if Jan is right with her timings, Trixie will exit in a few minutes looking dishevelled and still with a hint of red lipstick on the outer corner of her mouth. She will eat an apple while sitting on the counter and be absolutely no use to Jan’s crossword.

Jan decides she is done with them for the day and leaves them to their own devices as she slinks back to her office. She places the pen down carefully in the holder full of only back biros because she likes to know where it is and pulls the notecard out of her briefcase just to look at it. Again. She would hesitate to call this emotion joy.

The notecard grounds her mind enough to sort herself out for the last adoption case of the month and Jan lets her mouth twitch into a smile when she thinks of the kid she’ll be fighting for. He is small, sweet and tenacious and reminds her of Jackie in a way she did not expect. 

When he runs into her office, he makes a beeline for her desk and she ruffles his hair in a form of greeting. He has been there a few times before so he is comfortable and he collects the puzzle book from her magazine rack and peruses her pens to fill it in before retreating to the armchair in the back. He picks the purple one and she cannot blame him. She would too.

She settles the papers rather quickly getting everything ready for the court date set in a week and a half. All they need is for a judge to stamp them and the boy can go home secure. She relishes in the opportunity to provide that for him and she texts Jackie about how hopeful she is. Jackie responds with a pen emoji and Jan chuckles at her through the phone.

**15:12**

The pen is safe Jacqueline.

**15:15**

That’s all I wanted to know Janet.

**15:23**

Is this our first fight?

**15:25**

Are you already planning the divorce?

**15:27**

That was low. 

**15:30**

I’m not sorry. Get back to work pen thief.

*

**10:20**

Are you using the mug?

**10:24**

It’s an abomination.

**10:26**

You didn’t answer my question

*

Jackie makes mugs for all her clients. It’s a personal hobby, decorating them with ‘Mrs and Mrs’ or whatever titles. Sometimes it’s a wedding hashtag. Sometimes it’s for a stubborn lawyer who needs a little more sunshine in her life.

She thinks of it as a joke and it is… to begin with. Then she’s on her iPad making mockups on procreate and it just sort of happens. 

It’s a big mug - one of those that carry more coffee than you need with room for whipped cream (there should always be room for whipped cream, says the lactose intolerant wedding planner). It’s a white base with small, bright rainbows that says ‘Girl, you’re testi-fine’ in a graphic nineties font and it makes Jackie want to screech every time she sees it (she keeps it on display for this exact reason because nothing brings more joy than catching it in the corner of her eye during a dull moment). 

She wraps it up pretty in silver paper and places it into a nondescript cardboard box for delivery. They meet at a coffee shop one morning when Jan is bored and Jackie has a lull in weddings and she hands it over with a devilish grin that makes Jan squint at her to read between the lines. The lines are not obvious. 

Jan does not screech. She stares for a very very long time and then, she lets out a very slow controlled breath. And then she loses it. She cackles loudly and the patrons of the cafe look at the two lesbians in the corner with bemused faces and Jackie doesn’t care because this mug is one of the greatest decisions she’s ever made.

Jan takes it back to the office and fills it with hot coffee - three sugars and almond milk and just sits with it for a second. She almost wants people to see it but it’s so awful she will never admit to it. When Katya walks in, however, she is not angry. The blonde takes one look at the garish print and cheerful message and has to cling to the countertop for support - the mug staring at her until she can breathe again. 

“That is the best mug I have ever seen and I demand one.” Katya decides and Jan texts Jackie under the table who immediately responds with a selfie of herself with a plain mug and the caption ‘I am plotting.’ 

Jackie plots exquisitely and makes three more lawyer-y mugs.

Jan is oddly proud.

*

**20:32**

Jacks.

Are you busy?

I want you to meet my cat.

*

“That is the single gayest message I have ever received,” Jackie announces, stepping into the house from the rain and shaking her umbrella out of the door decisively. Jan is already there with a novelty mug with the slogan ‘gay and can do maths’ printed across it, filled with hot chocolate and too much whipped cream and Jackie takes it readily - soaking up the heat of the house to replace some the early winter climate stole from her.

She sinks onto Jan’s expensive but still plush couch and pulls a blanket over herself like this is a usual occurrence. For all the times Jan has been at hers, Jackie has never ventured into the lawyer’s place and yet despite the blondes complaints about how barren it is - Jackie feels at home. 

The walls are a little bare, the colours a little dark and the floor is cold even with the fire lit but she still feels cosy under her blanket, mug held just below her chin. Jan sets her own mug of green tea on the sideboard before she exits the open-plan kitchen-living room, on a mission to find her cat. When she returns she is holding a perfectly happy beige and coffee coloured long-haired cat who snuggles into the blonde’s chest with a purr. She nuzzles her nose into it, a blush spreading across her cheek as she notices Jackie stare. 

“Jaqueline, this is Marceline,” she says as she carefully holds out the cat who is perfectly happy to be held. Jackie cradles her carefully. 

“Hi Marceline,” she coos and Jan smiles softly as she brushes the light cat hairs off her flannel. 

Jackie holds the ragdoll cat with one hand and boops her nose with the other, giggling as she pulls her face back, mewling slightly.

“Oh, what’s Jackie doing to you,” Jan coos in a voice Jackie would usually reserve for babies. “What’s the matter, baby girl?” Jackie just watches as the cat is removed from her arms and burrows back into Jan’s chest as she slides back into the sofa with her. Jackie rests her chin on Jan’s shoulder, peering at the clearly attention-spoiled cat.

“You’re a helicopter parent,” she jibes sweetly and Jan very carefully elbows her.

“You would be the worst helicopter parent,” Jan rebukes but instead of laughing, Jackie gulps and leans back a little bit. Jan puts Marceline down so she can face the brunette. “Hey, what did I say?” She asks, confused.

“Sorry,” Jackie mutters under her breath, “I’ve just always hoped I wouldn’t be my mum if I became a parent.” Jan gets it. Well, she doesn’t really get it but she places her warm, fur-covered hand on Jackie’s bare forearm and leans towards her slightly.

“You would be a fantastic parent Jackie.” She tells her sincerely. “I swear.”

Jackie smiles again and Jan thinks she would do anything for that smile.

*

**06:21**

Jackie I think I’m sick.

**06:23**

Temperature?

**06:24**

Fucking hot.

**06:25**

I can’t trust you at home by yourself can I?

Screw it I’m coming to pick you up. Wear clothes.

  
  


*

Jackie looks at the girl asleep in her passenger seat with a soft but worried smile. She doesn’t look awful - pale and a bit peaky but it’s probably just a fever she tells herself as they drive to the shop. She’s planning to set her up in the back corner on a pile of cushions and blankets scavenged from both of their apartments. Ideally, she’d stay at home with her but winter weddings are just as popular as summer weddings so she’s got a fair few to work on today and she can’t do it from home. Or Jan’s.

She has to wake Jan up when they get there and it pains her a little bit to do so, head lolled against the condensated window - it can’t be comfortable. She rubs a gloved hand up and down Jan’s arm to try and rouse her and she comes around easily but looking sleepy. 

“I feel like shit,” she mutters and it makes Jackie laugh because of course, Jan doesn’t become sweeter when she’s sick. 

They eventually get her situated with a half-gallon water bottle and a hefty amount of blankets and Jackie will admit it’s adorable to see her cocooned as Jackie sits at the work table with flower arrangements splayed out around her.

It’s just past eleven when Jan rouses from her nap and she squints until her eyes adjust to the relatively bright shop lights.

“What are you doing?” She questions, straining her neck to see what Jackie’s working on. Jackie raises an eyebrow and takes the portfolio over to her, pulling one of the many blankets over her legs and placing a hand on Jan’s forehead as a gauge of illness. 

“So,” Jackie starts, flicking open the leather portfolio to the relevant page. “Someone wants a coastal wedding in winter.” She winces in disagreement and Jan lets her head fall onto Jackie's shoulder. 

“Well, love is a beach,” She quips and Jackie rolls her eyes.

“You’re lucky I wouldn't hit a sick person,” she retorts.

“How do you do this job?” Jan whines after watching Jackie highlight things for ten minutes straight. Admittedly Jan also highlights things but it’s usually in an ugly neon yellow and not pastel blue.

“What do you mean? It’s plan-tastic,” Jackie jokes and Jan looks like she would stab her if she could move her body. “Do you want soup?” She asks trying to change the subject before Jan actually murders her.

“Yes,” Jan harrumphs but she does smile. 

While Jackie is making the soup (or warming it up out of the can) Jan flicks through one of the albums Jackie keeps at the back of the shop and finds herself smiling at some of the pictures. She finds the album from Nicky and Rose’s wedding and comes across a picture of her and Jackie at the bar. She’s smiling - they both are. It’s cute.

“She has a heart!” Jackie exclaims when she comes back to the blonde looking at wedding photos and Jan scowls like a petulant child, only taking the soup when Jackie tells her she’ll take it back to the kitchenette and Jan realises she’s not sure she can use her legs at the moment. It’s good soup. It’s good company.

Jackie drives her home at the end of the day, tucking her into bed with a cold compress and when Jan wakes up the next morning she finds the brunette on the couch under ‘her’ blanket with an empty mug of hot chocolate on the sideboard and Marceline curled up by her cheek.

She presses a kiss to her temple and curls up on the other end of the couch with a glass of water, flicking through the channels on the TV until she finds a rerun of Sleepless in Seattle which she watches with the volume on low and subtitles on to let Jackie sleep a little longer.

*

**15:34**

Jackie?

Are you free tomorrow?

It’s a saturday?

Like 6-12

**15:45**

Should I ask?

**15:47**

City LGBT Gala

It’ll be nice I swear

It’s just Trixie’s bringing a date

**15:48**

Are you asking me on a date Janet?

**15:50**

Would you say yes?

*

  
  


Jan picks Jackie up at six. She stands under the porch of Jackie’s apartment building pressing the buzzer and wondering why you host an LGBT Gala in the middle of January. She leans on the dry wall and watches the spitting rain hit the pavement, grateful for the long black umbrella she’s brought. 

She’s in a black blazer with fitted black trousers that end just above the ankles making her short legs look much longer. Under the blazer is a silk camisole in a champagne colour and she’s wearing nude Louboutins to tie it all together. Her long blonde hair is down and she examines herself in the glass door just to reaffirm she looks good. She feels good - better than ever really and as she waits for Jackie she’s pretty sure she knows why. 

The Persian is in a floor-length gold dress that fits her just right, her brown hair curled and tumbling down her back. It all just works and Jan feels like a lucky, lucky woman to be escorting her - she tells her as much.

“God Jackie,” she tells her, eyes wide and honest. “You look… damn.” 

Jackie smiles shyly, blushing like she doesn’t believe a word she’s being told. “You don’t scrub up too bad yourself,” She quips back, making a motion for Jan to twirl which the blonde does immediately. “Those trousers are good for your ass.” She doesn’t mean to say it (she does). “Are you sure this isn’t too much?” She gestures to herself this time and Jan shakes her head.

“God no Jacks, you’re gorgeous,” she tells her emphatically and Jackie touches her chin gently in a joking manner to close her gaping mouth. Jan puts up the umbrella and thanks the height of the heels because she’s the almost the same height as Jackie in heels. There’s usually only an inch or two difference but now there's less than half an inch and she feels powerful.

She helps Jackie into the car and then runs around to clamber in herself - grateful for the taxi. 

“So what are we doing?” Jackie asks, nervousness hinting in her voice. She’s playing with the edge of her skirt and Jan takes the hand firmly. 

“It should be fun,” she tells her, playing with the ring on Jackie's thumb. “Me and Trixie are there for our work with trans kids - she’s bringing Katya, you’ll like her. She’s insane but she also does criminal law so it’s to be expected. There’ll be dinner, some activists will do speeches, there’s a queer prom aspect too so we’ll greet some kids and have a chat - you’ll love that. Then we dance and drink heavily.” She takes a deep breath mostly for comedy because Jackie still seems tense and the brunette cracks a smile.

“It sounds fun Janet,” she says, calmer now, intertwining their fingers properly and squeezing.

Jan has to let go of Jackie’s hand to put the umbrella up and they link arms again as they walk into the foyer of the grand looking hotel hosting the gala. They meet Trixie and Katya in the glamorous round-room, Trixie dressed in a rose-pink gown and Katya in a burgundy suit similar to Jans. Jan was right, Katya is insane but she is wonderful and Jackie ends up seated between herself and Jan at the dinner (Jan offered to sit next to the flamboyant charity manager so that Jackie would feel more comfortable and she’s very happy she took the offer).

The first course is Flank steak flatbread with roasted tomato, cilantro, roasted garlic and black cumin mayo. It’s decadent and stupidly delicious and Jackie asks Jan if she can get her the number of the catering company which Jan gladly agrees to, hand on Jackie’s lower back through the opening in the chair. It’s meant as comfort but Katya winks at them both several times and Jackie just blushes until Trixie calls her down. The other people on the table talk to Trixie about her work with LGBT youth and Jackie has to place a hand on Jan’s arm until Trixie points out it’s Jan’s work too and the blonde calms the fuck down. Cocktails are delivered to the table and Jan does not scoff at the fruity beverage. Jackie calls it progress.

For the main, Jan chooses a roasted lamb leg with thyme sauce, ratatouille vegetables and sauté potatoes while Jackie goes for the mixed grill with oriental rice and seasonal vegetables. At some point, Jackie ends up with all Jan’s veg and Jan ends up with half of Jackie's rice but neither can distinguish when it happened. Nothing much interesting happens in the main course. So far no one has asked why Jackie is here which is a relief to her and no one has openly insulted Jan or said anything particularly incendiary so she feels safe in her peace of mind. 

Dessert is cheesecake with berries and it is precisely when Jackie decides she needs to be brought to all future gala events. She whispers this into Jan’s ear and the blonde snorts into a raspberry. Katya watches them both and it makes the brunette feel like she’s done something wrong even when she and Trixie have a perfectly lovely and definitely hypothetical conversation about wedding flowers for people who like pink and red. Jackie assures them that she could do it easily and makes sure to hand over a business card she’s been keeping in the back of her phone for years. As a wedding planner specialising in queer events, she’d figured this could be a good chance for promotion. The whole table ends up discussing Jackie’s business by the coffee and truffles portion of the dinner and Jan just leans back with a proud smile as Jackie hands another business card to the over-eager charity director who wants a ceremony for himself and his longtime boyfriend.

The speeches are good but dull and she drinks her cocktail and then part of Katya’s in waiting for it to be over.

The meeting of the little gay kids in their suits and their dresses and their pronoun pins though is everything Jackie had hoped it would be and more and it makes her heart so happy to watch a teenage non-binary couple slow-dance to Billie Holiday.

Jan hits it off with a six-year-old called Milo who asks her if Jackie is a princess to which Jan replies “yes, she’s the princess of Persia,” and Jackie wants to cry. She takes a photo on her phone of them hugging and texts it straight to Jan because it’s precious.

Somehow, in all the madness, they end up slow-dancing. It’s not really the right song for it and Jackie doesn’t want to get makeup on Jan’s blazer no matter how many times Jan says it’s okay but it’s warm and comfortable and Jackie wonders why she’s spent the better part of eight months not being in Jan’s arms.

They end up on the very edge of the dancefloor because Jackie decides she needs to take her shoes off (she doesn’t) and suddenly it feels more real because Jan is towering above her and she feels like she’s in the rom-com she’s always wanted. 

“Jan,” she whispers because the moment feels too important to speak aloud in, “do you believe in love?” She sounds so innocent and she’s looking up at Jan with her brown eyes so fragile that Jan pulls her even closer - the hand on her lower back warm and firm.

“I think we all have a capacity for love,” she muses as they sway out of time with the music. “It’s very human of us. But yes, I believe in love.” Jackie nods slowly, processing what’s being said. 

She places her head on Jan’s chest and feels the woman’s shallow breaths in the rise and fall of her chest. She removes her head and looks into the blonde’s ocean blue eyes with a sigh, dropping the hand she’s been holding and wrapping both arms loosely around Jan’s neck.

“Do you know why I believe in love?” Jan asks suddenly. But it’s not sudden, not really, it’s built on layers and layers of coffee dates and mugs and purple glitter pens. Her eyes flick from Jackie’s brown ones down to her lips and back up a couple of times before she answers herself, watching the way Jackie looks completely at ease in her arms. 

“You,” she mumbles. 

And then they’re kissing and it’s soft but it’s passionate and it tells Jackie everything she needs to know about the way she makes Jan feel. It doesn’t last long, Jackie pulling away before they can scar any small children, but the look in Jan’s eyes is as pure and loving as Jackie has ever seen.

“You did it, Jaqueline,” Jan mutters into her ear, pulling her closer still until they are essentially hugging while moving in a slow circle. “You fucking did it.” 

Jackie giggles and presses a kiss to Jan’s nose, having to rise up on her toes to do so, “you planning the divorce yet?” She jokes and Jan rolls her eyes playfully.

“Not a fucking chance.”

*

**15:37**

What wine did you want again baby?

**15:40**

Just pick up that red we always get

If you're late for our own damn engagement party Janet I'm divorcing you.

**15:45**

I’m on my way babe. I have the wine. Calm down.

*

They’re calling it an engagement party but really it’s their closest friends sitting in their living room petting Marceline and drinking wine. They’re celebrating something everyone knew was coming and eating tortilla chips while they do it. 

“Welcome to the engage-Jan-t party!” Jan announces to Jackie, Nicky, Rose and Bob as she walks through the door only five minutes early. They’re very lucky most of the group is usually late and Jackie only reminds her of that by raising both eyebrows at the pun and swiftly opening the wine to try and pretend she’s not stressed. 

“What have we got?” Jan asks softly, pressing a chaste kiss to her fiance’s cheek as she peruses the alcohol selection. Nicky turns around on the sofa and winks.

“I’ve brought some rosé,” she jokes and Rose hits her before asking for a glass of wine to take the edge of her wife’s stupidity. Bob calls them all dykes before heading to the bathroom to ask her partner when they’ll get here.

Katya and (a very pregnant) Trixie are the last to show up, Rock and Bob’s partner Jinkx turning up only a few minutes earlier.

“Rosé?” Nicky offers Jinkx and they smirk before shaking their head.

“If it’s your wife, no thank you,” they joke and Jan high fives them with a grin.

They end up spending the evening on Jan’s extortionately large couch eating nachos and questioning how Jackie managed to get Jan to fall in love with her. 

Jackie smiles coyly and tilts her head, bumping Jan’s shoulder with her own. 

“It all started at a wedding…”

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think - maybe i'll write more!


End file.
